


Sweets

by Imjustalamezombie13



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, I hope I did ok, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Maybe Jacobs bakery??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imjustalamezombie13/pseuds/Imjustalamezombie13
Summary: (A prompt I got off tumblr which I made into a story, cited on the beginning of story) Credence Barebone is extremely deprived of any candy or bakery goods his entire life, which he longs for even when he's grown up. I tried to make this story cute and fluffy. Come check it out :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> First off, this isn't my idea at all. Also this is from my tumblr account but re-edited to my liking than the one I posted at 11pm at night exhausted out of my mind lol. Also this is my second time writing fanfiction in general if you want to count this re-edited version. Here is where I got my idea (they come with very lovely ideas, ya know?): http://moonpouch.tumblr.com/post/154906962102/headcanon-credence-was-never-allowed-sugar-or

* * *

Credence for all his life was deprived of tasting anything remotely sweet. It would breed gluttony and greed as the bread in the bakery was not made intended to be received as the plain loaf Jesus had given to his disciples, Mary Lou remarked.

"Remember Credence," His adoptive mother peered sternly down to his younger self long ago, "one Corinthians 10:17 'Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.' The bakers are meddling with that one bread therefore are committing atrocious defiance towards Jesus himself. Same goes for that evil candy, Credence."

"I understand, mother. Forgive me." As a young depleted Credence slowly went to the kitchen to get the wooden spoon.

He already knew the routine at this point.

From then on he could only guiltily imagine the taste of what warm gooey, soft chocolate croissants from oven tasted like, how the fresh decadent cookies would taste as it melted in his mouth, wonder what exactly it is was like to  hear the flaky and buttery apple turnovers do a light crunch in his mouth, or how the beautifully decorated and shiny candies in the uptown shop would absolutely delight his taste buds. He even wondered if his siblings even indulged themselves in thoughts of their sinful infatuations at all like he did. No. He quickly wished them to not think of their greedy sins. He wanted them to still have a chance at salvation since his own damnation, as his Ma said, thoroughly ruined his soul completely. He even prayed frequently in hopes that his damned soul would not spread and taint his family. 

As years went by the infrequent thoughts of indulgences turned to   
proclivity as the beating went by, and whispers of his newfound  _shadow_ gave encouragement and reassurances. It was undecided whether the shadow was purely from the villainy devil sent for his debauchery, or merely a harrowing task sent by God for him to overcome. This was something to be hid from Ma altogether, as it could possibly upset her and think of the atrocious magic she strongly condemned. And also because the shadow was produced the day after the second most brutal Credence has ever endured in his life after he lost them their potentially rich sponsor, because he timidly deflected the crude advancements from the sponsor. He didn't tell his mother that part fearing and unsure of what her response would be of a man hitting on him. He took the beating as usual, obiediently and fearfully. And he didn't want another again so soon because of his shadowy companion. 

It seemed the shadow increasingly enticed him as it crawled under his skin and whipspered about looking the billboard sign advertising sweets. And for once in Credence's life the shadow convinced him to be subtly rebellious to his strict mother. A handful of times when Credence had given all his pamphlets out, with just enough time to spare, he secretly make a voyage over the sea of people to the uptown candy shop or bakery. Credence would only admire in complete astonishment at the overflowing glass shelves of numerous colorful candies neatly sorted, but _only_ what he could make out from the window. Never would he dare even allow himself to think of entering the tempting establishment, nor remain at the window for longer than 3 minutes. In addition, sometimes poor or orphaned children would be there longingly looking at the window to in rags or clothes that seem to be somewhat outgrown( the only difference between them and himself was that he was older, and his clothes were a bit cleaner). He didn't want to be there when the owner would routinely come out to yell and shoo at the children for loitering.  

Afterwards, Credence use to stumble to the bakery's elegantly crafted window and gape at the magnificent cakes delicately crafted in display. The bakers would always have some beautiful creation being taken out of the toasty oven whenever Credence use to come. It was almost as if God was testing Credence in every way as he walked this gluttonous path, or perhaps God was rightfully punishing him by mocking him with his nefarious desires. But during one of his fifth voyages to the bakery a baker kneading dough had come to recognize Credence over time and thought it was polite to briefly smile and wave at him through the window. _The baker had recognized Credence._ Immediately panic had set in his stomach causing Credence to run  back to his block after this, but stopped to collect himself before he walked through Mary Lou's door. He couldn't afford anyone to recognize him during the diabolic journeys, especially since Ma sermons were kind of getting popular, thus remorsefully swore to never return to the bakery at all. Ma had started to beat him more often around this time too, and he had already felt completely awful enough at the sins his Ma had announced he had committed during his beatings, even as the shadow under his skin was boiling with anger from every beating. Plus he didn't want to give her even more reasons to lose even more precious energy beating him when she could be planning more speeches for her pious mission. More time to try harder and be the perfect son for her.

 

...

  
Everything was different now living with Mr. Graves. The real Mr. Graves. The non-lascivious and agreesive Mr. Graves. Credence couldn't help feel so astonished, fooled, and bunerable over the entire events that had happened that year and how he has managed to survive. He couldn't thank for Mr. Graves enough for letting him live in his household after barging in the week after he caught wind of hearing that the real one was rescued. He _had_ to see the real man. To know who Mr. Graves really was. To know if the real one was still admirable and was actually sweet to him, unlike the fake one that still was sweet to Credence but in a begrimed way that he couldn't exactly pinpoint at the time. But miracle circumstances had happened (like how Credence was unhurt and unaffected on the various lockings of the front door, which really threw Mr. Graves off) between the two and soon enough Mr. Graves offered him shelter in the most sincerest way Credence has ever been offered. Or miracle circumstances of how he survived the various wands that blasted through him only to figure out his shadow, or obscurius as the British man said, saved him. It engulfed him quickly before dying and making him go into a stream of smoke, puffing him away to safety on the other side of New York. Credence's shadowy companion who was the longest person ever there for him, or thing to put more correctly, was put to rest and he couldn't even show his gratitude towards it. Although, _he could_ start his life again. And now with under the shelter of Mr. Graves' home. Now Credence was introduced to some things he was never permitted to do under his Ma's upbringing; Mr.  Graves had gently _coaxed_ him into trying. But still he couldn't allow himself to put a morsel of sugar in his mouth. The one thing he truly desired most passionately, perhaps more than Mr. Graves touches, was to taste anything sweet. But here he was still refusing to put a grain of sugar in his mouth as he could somewhat discern his Ma's reprimands inside his head. And Credence was lucky enough that Mr. Graves had not caught on to his "lent" or directly offered anything containing sugar. He feared he'd insult the beautiful and caring man he so longingly admired; it would utterly crush him if he did.

But things never seem to go in Credence's favor entirely.

It was three months of living with Mr. Graves until it happened. It seemed on that day God would surely and rightfully punish Credence for the gluttony and greed he had indulged on as he groggily entered the kitchen one morning. _It_ was there. _It_ was next to Mr. Graves favorite coffee mug already filled with piping hot coffee. _It_ was mocking Credence wickedly in the face. _It_ had a glazed, flaky outer ring of crust with the most soft, delicious custard filling in the middle that made Credence's mouth water, while making his throat seem to dry. In addition, it had a drizzle of frosting on top of it. Beautiful, beautiful frosting.

"That's called a danish." This gruffly voice utterly frightened Credence as he was completely hypnotized in the pastry and failed to hear Mr. Graves coming.

"I- I didn't know that." Credence quickly moved aside so Graves could walk past.

"There was a new bakery that opened a bit far from here, but I heard ravings about it at work. It was fairly.. interesting in the decor to say the least." Mr. Graves sipped the coffee before reaching towards the danish and forming a small smirk. "Would you care for some, or will you stare at it until it molds?"

"I-Um" Credence quickly shifted his gaze from the luxurious pastry to Mr. Graves navy blue slippers. He already could feel his face heating up quickly before he swallowed to respond, "It would be rude of me, sir. You bought it. Besides I can't."

Credence wish he could have his belt and whip himself as he heard Mr. Graves sigh. He had done it. He had most likely hurt the man who solely cared for him. Mr. Graves took a step to him closing enough distance between him, which made Credence look up. The danish had a bite taken out of it.

"See? Nothing dangerous. I'm not that into pastries, but it does taste very nice and sweet." Mr. Graves said while chewing with a bit of frosting on the side of his mouth. Credence long to wipe the frosting off with either his hand or mouth, but mentally stopped the thought immediately. "I saw you eyeing it like a kid in the candy store. I know you want a bite at least. I don't mind at all, really."

It was mixture of Credence wanting to be fed by Mr. Graves, him wanting to finally sink his teeth into that delicious frosted bread, and to busy his mouth from wanting to actually kiss the frosting off Mr. Graves mouth that he finally took a blissful bite. How? How could he reframe his whole life from tasting this? How could his mother say that this is wicked and evil? The danish made his taste buds soar to the heavens themselves and cry hallelujah in his mouth. It was like a slice of heaven on earth. He chewed happily,rather quickly too, and reddened while looking at the bite he had taken. It was much bigger than the one Mr. Graves had taken, and Credence looked worriedly at Mr. Graves. But Mr. Graves was chuckling quietly, which was quite rare for Credence to hear at all. It was usually occasional smiles or smirks from his Mr. Graves.

"You can have it, you know? If you really like it that much." Giving Credence the pastry motioning for the newspaper from the windowsill to come to his hands.

Credence couldn't help but smell the frosting and custard's aroma it as it lingered on his nose a bit too long, "Are you sure?"

"Very." Mr. Graves was beginning to leave the kitchen before adding, "Seeing you that happy is more better than my morning coffee."

Credence's heart almost could practically leap out of his chest, and felt like his face could bake any dough faster than an oven can. And he thanked Mr. Graves for not turning around to see him completely flabbergasted and embarrassed all at once, still holding the danish.

Every Friday afternoon Graves would come home early either with pastries or candies for Credence. And some days when Mr. Graves could tolerate being around people after a long day's work, he would personally bring Credence to both shops and pay for everything Credence would muster up the courage to ask for (or sometimes look at). Credence would even see a kid standing to look at the shop's window and give the awestruck child a couple licorice or handful of jelly beans from his bag, while Mr. Graves smiled lightly and would give the child two dollars as well. Then put an affectionate hand on Credence's shoulder, while they walked away. 

Credence secretly wanted to ask if Mr. Graves' kisses would be sweeter than any pastry or candy New York could make. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, or amused you for a couple minutes! Likes, comments, and kudos would be nice for my conscious, but only if you want to. Not sure if I'll write more short one part stories or not depending on how this one goes but let's see what happens!


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